


Children of Nowhere

by Silverling



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Homophobic Language, M/M, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-05 05:25:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverling/pseuds/Silverling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark is pretty content with his lifestyle. He drinks, he parties and he'll attend his British public school for the sake of it. But with the arrival of new pupils also comes rivalry and despise. Is Tony Stark capable of accepting another human being into his heart?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first posted fan fiction ever, so I'm pretty anxious about it all. Non the less, lets sail this SHIP!
> 
> This is a contemporary AU set in Britain without any actual movie references, just a few nods here and there. The characters are seventeen years of age at the beginning of the story. Explicit shenanigans will follow in later chapters.
> 
> Fic art can be found on my Tumblr: athousandvines.tumblr.com 
> 
> I hope you'll all enjoy!
> 
> \- Silverling

 

  
**Chapter one :** **Prologue**

_  
_

Alright. First off, I’d like to say a few things. Yes, it’s an awesome lifestyle. We own cars, have trust funds and we’ve seen more of the world than most late teens have. Or ever will for that fact. And yes, it’s private schools and dinner parties etcetera etcetera. However, if your parent is a diplomat or a big shot of any kind it also means being homeless. You may have a roof over your head (with ornamented ceiling and chandelier) but if you live somewhere for five years without having to pack your stuff and tag along to the next destination, it’s an _actual_ luxury. You can’t afford to make friends without suffering heart break. Let alone any serious romantic relationship. We are raised by our nannies and fed by our cooks. And if you don’t have any siblings, like myself, it tends to get lonely. So you have to entertain yourself. Also not always a good thing. Apparently I’m starting to have a reputation. Or maybe have one already. A solid one. But as I was saying, it’s not all that fancy-pansy to be living the great life. Kids like us have more issues than Amsterdam has coffee shops. Because we are the children of nowhere.

But I’m seriously setting the wrong tone here. This story is about me, so you are bound to have a good time. Enjoy the ride.

_-Tony Stark_


	2. Septem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy sunday everyone! I'm so sorry I didn't post the first "real" chapter sooner, but you know how it goes during the winter break: Holidays, family, work (dispite the idea of freedom) and whatnot.
> 
> My goal is to post a chapter once every two weeks, so I'm going to try my best to keep that as a deadline for myself.
> 
> Thank you so much for the kind words, the kudo's and bookmarks! They mean a lot!
> 
> -Silverling

  **Chapter 2 : Septem**  


It was October, the first semester started seven weeks ago at The International School of Oxford. The school was grand and glorious. It was a school for the striving young men and women the past hundred and fifty years. The Victorian building was flooded with the bright warm colours seeping through the tainted glass, the lights and shadows falling on to its cold and grey stone. It had harboured knowledge and bright minds for decades, and though its glory days of thrive may have ended, it still stood. Solid and undisputed as the days of old. And only after seven weeks of the new year in this academic masterpiece, Tony Stark already had his first serious conversation with the schools Deputy Headmaster.  
  
‘Deputy! Long-time no see, sir.’ Tony grinned widely when he entered the office. Deputy Headmaster Coulson seemed all but pleased, sliding his reading glasses down to the tip of his nose while he kept his eyes on his paperwork. ‘Don’t look so smug, Stark. Sit down.’  
Coulson pointed with his pen to the chair across his desk. Tony sat down and quietly waited for Coulson to finish his paperwork. He actually liked Coulson, as far as he could like any teacher. Coulson was a man who seemed to remember what it was like to be seventeen. Unlike most of the teaching staff, or any adult in general, Tony had ever encountered. Tony noted a change of furniture and pointed it out to Coulson. ‘I like the new rug. It gives a personal touch.’  
Coulson took of his glasses. ‘Yes, Stark. Alas you are one of the few students who would be able to note such small change in an office he shouldn’t be in as much as he is.’ He sighed. ‘Tony. We made a deal before the beginning of the summer break. Why haven’t you kept it?’  
Tony threw his hand up apologetically, ‘Well it’s the seventh week of the new year, I’d say I’m trying really hard to keep in line, don’t you agree?’  
‘No, unfortunately I don’t.’ he sounded somewhat grim. _Oh dear_. ‘Tony. You are not in a position anymore to wreak your usual havoc. You have wasted a lot of goodwill over the past two years and I’m running out of cards to play and options to keep.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘I’ve been ordered by Headmaster Fury to… he put it quite eloquently: Keep you on a shorter leash. Or he will start dealing with your insubordinations in person.’  
Tony opened his mouth to protest, but Coulson put his hand up to silence him. ‘Tony, all I’m asking you to do is behave properly. Or else your care is out of my hands.’ He smiled lightly. ‘And we both know how you and Headmaster Fury tend to get along.’  
Tony huffed, ‘Yeah…’  
‘So. I think I’ve made myself clear. I hope not to see you soon, Tony Stark.’  
Tony nodded. ‘Likewise sir.’ Coulson put his reading glasses back on and waved towards the door. ‘Off you go!’ Tony left without saying another word, only to mumble after the office door closed behind him: ‘Well shit.’

  
'That bad, huh?' Unable to speak with his chicken stuffed mouth he nodded to his friend. Bruce Banner was your stereotypical nice guy. Also American by the way. His father was an honorary scientist for some institute. Tony had insisted he'd tell about his father’s job, considering that of his own father, but Bruce refused. He claimed it was "classified". This only sparked Tony's interest further and after Tony's continued nagging Bruce told him that they'd used to live in Syria, but due to the nature of his father’s work it became unsafe to stay, so they left for the States, only to move to London a week later. And Bruce said he was never told anything but of a few hours’ notice. "Bag pack time" he had called it. He moved here three years ago with nothing but his sports bag full of clothes, for the rest had been left in the Middle-East. Yikes. Tony dropped the subject from that moment on.  
Tony stared at the teachers table. The headmaster was seated in the middle with a hard look on his face. Headmaster Nicolas Fury was a tall menacing African-American man who, believe it or not, had a glass eye. He was only an eye patch away of being the epitome of a Bond villain.  
'Gofdam Fhury.' he swallowed. ' _Tighten my leash_... The nerve.' Bruce snickered 'Well, you do piss him off on a daily basis. Coulson is right, you should-'  
Tony interrupted Bruce while waving his fork around; 'What, obey Lord Fury, the one-eyed god?'  
Bruce cocked his brow 'No. Behave. Could you pass me the bread? Thank you. What I'm trying to say, is that it’s your final year.' He eyed Tony. 'Try not to go out with a bang.'  
Tony snorted; 'But isn’t that the best way to go?' Bruce sighed and ignored him as he wiped imaginary crumbs of his trousers. He knew Tony Stark well enough that when he cut off a conversation, that was the end of it. ‘Anyway, Clint asked me if you were still up for tonight?’  
Tony blinked as he quickly took a sip of his cup. ‘As if I’d ever refuse such a warm hearted invitation.’  
‘As if you’d ever reject the chance to get up to no good.’ Bruce snorted.  
Tony got up with his plate and patted Bruce on the shoulders. ‘Lighten up, with that attitude you’ll get nowhere in life. Well, except maybe a position as deputy headmaster.’ He grinned and left his friend alone at their table. ‘See you later!’ He yelled over his shoulder while dumping his dirty plate next to a first year pupil who eyed him incredulously. Bruce sighed audibly before reaching for his chemistry book. ‘Peace at last.’

* * *

  
The International School of Oxford was originally a school primarily for young men of wealthy descent. You heard it, a private school for boys. Once the Oxford Institute, as it used to be called, was forced to deal with its declining interest in separate private schooling it fused with the Oxford Catholic School for Girls several years back. Of course noted as progressive change. During the time we were still in our diapers, excuse me, nappies. However, keeping its segregated buildings only to exchange interaction with extracurricular activities such as theatre plays and whatnot. Fear of raging male hormones driven teen pregnancies in mind probably. After some financial setbacks in funding, the two schools were forced to fuse once more with another school, the International Academy of London, since those schools were all under the same doming academic structure. So TISO was born. However, with now a student body of 1500 students, it was forced to find accommodations which could hold this large amount of people. Which of course they didn’t have, so TISO existed of three buildings; One for academic purposes and two others for housing. In theory, TISO functions as a boarding school. But in practice, every kid hopped into their by daddy funded sports car after the final classes on Friday and headed home. Home was in most cases; London.  
  
Tony didn’t mind going home for the weekends. He wasn’t fond of it either. His father, Howard, worked long hours at his own internationally successful corporation Stark Industries. Sometimes he would go home and tinker on his motorcycle or on his computers. Both hard and software wise. But there were also weekends in which he didn’t feel like going home or accept an invitation from his friends. He would stay at his dorm at TISO, digging through books, scribbling barely readable notes and surf the internet for articles about engineering, which sometimes were published by his father’s company. But honestly, most of Tony’s free time was spend partying. So when you’re reprimanded by your academic institute, nothing says “fuck this shit” more than shotting three jagerbombs in a hot London club in the company of your friends.

  
Tony downed the last drink and shook his head violently. ‘I fucking love alcohol!’ he shouted to Bruce, standing next to him at the bar, trying to be heard over the loud music pumping through the speakers.  
‘As your friend, I’m obliged to tell you that’s not a very constructive love affair.’ Bruce yelled back. Tony silently mouthed to his friend ‘I can’t hear you’ while pointing to his ears. ‘How convenient!’ Bruce laughed tiredly. Tony looked back to the dance floor while complaining about the music. ‘What’s up with this Skrillex shit? It sounds like a computer having an orgasm!’ Bruce pointed to the middle of the floor ‘Clint seems to be enjoying himself!’ So it seemed he was. He looked like he popped a pill or two (maybe he had) as he was exorbitantly throwing his entire body back and forth to the beat. The surrounding crowd seemed to be making space out of fear for physical injury. Tony snickered, ‘What an idiot.’  
He looked around. ‘Why isn’t Steve here yet?’ Bruce sipped from his beer, ‘His mother had some fancy dinner party which he was obliged to attend. Didn’t he tell you?’ ‘Dunno. Might have. And Natasha?’  
‘Natasha went to Somerset with her parents for the weekend. Honestly Tony, do you even pay attention to what we say?’ Tony lifted his eyebrows and shrugged, ‘If you tell me something even slightly interesting, I might.’  
Bruce snorted. He turned to Tony ‘We haven’t finished our conversation from this afternoon.’ Tony was eyeing a cute blond girl in a rather skimpy dress a few feet away. ‘Which conversation?’ ‘About behaving at school, Tony.’ Tony’s head snapped back. ‘What? Really dude, we’re trying to have a good time here. Don’t be like Captain Buzzkill.’ ‘You know how much Steve hates that nickname, stop calling him that. However,’ Quickly cutting Tony off mid protest, ‘I meant what I said.’ He eyed at his friend. ‘Don’t mess this up Tony. It’s your last year. I’d hate to see you get kicked out before the exams.’ They just stared at each other bleakly before Tony yelled ‘Don’t be so fucking grim man! I’ll be fine. Fuck, my dad donates so much money to the school they wouldn’t dare kick me out.’  
‘Tony, I’m serious here.’ Tony sighed. ‘Alright, alright. Alright! I’ll behave.’ He looked back to the other end of the bar, gave Bruce a few pats on his shoulder. ‘But not tonight.’ He smirked as he headed for the blonde he was looking at, leaving Bruce alone at his spot once again. ‘Why does he always do that?’

* * *

  
Tony woke up, head throbbing painfully. He was lying naked in bed. His own bed thank god, but he was failing at recollecting how he got there in the first place. He grumbled as he rose up, quickly looking beside him. No woman lying next to him. Good. He scanned his room, also no female clothes on the floor or such. Also good. That meant there wasn’t a girl right now taking a shower and expecting breakfast and small talk in a couple of minutes. Tony rarely took girls home, but he might have done so once or twice in the heat of the moment. Nothing is more awkward than not remembering the name of the girl who’s  lying in your bed. He located his phone and texted in the group chat on Whatsapp;  
  
 **Tony:  How the fuck did I get home last night?**  
  
 **Clint:  Good afternoon sunshine! Sleep well?**  
  
 **Tony:  Shut up dick cheese.**  
  
 **Clint:  Tssst such language!**  
 **No rlly, you took a cab home**  
  
 **Tony:  When?**  
  
 **Clint:  After you sucked the face of that slutty broad**  
  
 **Bruce:  Good afternoon**  
 **And yes, you were rather engaged most of the night and afterwards took a cab home.**  
  
 **Tony:  Lol. Good times.**  
 **But seriously guys, I don’t even remember what she looked like**  
 **Honestly, I only remember she was blond**  
 **I think…**  
 **Was she hot?**  
  
 **Steve:  Another one of those nights, gentlemen?**

**Tony:  Hiya Steve, apparently so. How was your exciting dinner with your mothers book club?**

**Steve:  …**

**Bruce:  Not really my type Tony. Definitely yours though  
           Hi Steve**

**Clint:  Hey Steve?**  
  
 **Steve:  Yes Clint?**  
  
 **Clint:  Say hi to your mom for me**  
  
 **Steve:  Please explain to me why we are friends?**  
  
 **Tony:  Because you’re a good Samaritan.**  
  
  
Tony rubbed his eyes. Jesus Christ he was hung over. This had to be fixed with a greasy breakfast and an IV of caffeine. He struggled to get up and wandered off to the shower. After getting decent, he munched on his toast as he sat lethargically at the kitchen bar. The house was empty and cold. His father wasn’t home. He wondered when Howard had been for the last time this week. Tony’s head hurt. He didn’t feel up for _thi_ s shit today. It was already three in the afternoon. He’d probably spend the rest of the day hanging in front of the TV and call it an early night. If he’d listen to his common sense that is. He grabbed his phone from the counter and threw in another text;

**  
Tony:  So guys. Same time tonight?**

 


End file.
